The Well
by fantasdancer
Summary: While out collecting evidence Tim and Tony are attacked and dropped down a well. Some home truths of Tony's come to light.
1. Chapter 1

Tim woke up with a harsh jolt to sudden icy coldness and overwhelming pain.

A moments' panicked instinct and the shock of the cold had him flailing and it was a moment before he figured out that he'd fallen into water and that _that_ way was _up_ and he found his feet. He got his head out of the chest high water, coughing and spluttering, and spitting out what tasted more like sewerage than water.

His head pounded with pain and his shoulder was pure agony. He leaned back panting and fighting back black spots in his vision that threatened to send him back into unconsciousness – something he realised, that could prove deadly. It took Tim a good ten seconds to remember what had happened. He'd been straightening up after bagging some evidence in the forest. Someone had pushed him and then hit him from behind. Tim lifted his good hand to feel at the back of his head. He had a good sized lump there which was bleeding profusely. Head wounds always tended to bleed more than they should. Tim winced and left the lump alone.

His shoulder was hurt too - definitely broken. The same collarbone that he'd busted when he'd gotten into a car accident as a teenager. He already knew the routine with that injury. He could use his forearm reasonably well but he wasn't going to be lifting his whole arm any time soon.

Tim scanned the area with vision that blurred and twisted in and out dizzyingly. Still, it didn't take him long to identify the place as a dilapidated old water well. Whom ever had hit him had tossed him down a dingy old well, and with one arm out of commission he wasn't going to be getting out of it on his own.

He felt hopefully at his pockets but he'd been stripped of anything useful. No phone, no weapon or knife. He only had a sodden wad of tissues left. There was nothing that he could do except yell: "HELP!"

Four hours later and Tim had yelled himself nearly hoarse and was starting to doubt that he was going to be found anytime soon – at least any time before he died of the cold. God he was cold! He already couldn't feel his hands and feet at all and he had to lean against the slimy well walls every now and then when his vision got too blurred by dizziness spots. So far he'd managed to keep his breakfast down but it had been touch and go there a couple of times.

He was beginning to get really scarred. Of all the places to die - being alone in a disgusting slimey hole in the ground was not up there with his favourite ways to go.

A sound.

Tim's head shot up despite the pain of the sudden movement. He'd heard something.

"Help!" yelled Tim. He could hear a distant voice from up above. He squinted through his double vision up to the circular glimpse of sunlight thirty feet above him. "Help! Gibbs? Tony? Someone? I'm stuck down here in a well!"

The voice was definitely getting closer and suddenly the silhouette of a head and shoulders appeared above him.

"Thank God! Tony, the … "

Tim blinked as the circle of light suddenly winked out and then a moment later a heavy weight slammed partly into him driving him under the water.

Tim came up spluttering and coughing out some of the water he had swallowed. Tony had a grip on his arm and for a second Tim didn't know if he was helping Tony up or Tony was helping him.

"Damn it," yelled Tony as he got his balance in the chest high water. "When I get out of here, Tucker I'm gonna punch your lights out buddy!"

"I think you'll be a little bit too dead by then, cop, you and your friend. You just sit tight while I go find you some more company," said Tucker. There was a distant and fading sound of laughter as the guy above left the scene.

Tim sighed and leaned back against the well wall fighting back the despair he was suddenly feeling. "Tucker's here. He got you too," he said softly.

"Why don't you state the obvious there, McGee!" spat Tony in frustration, he splashed passed Tim and started feeling at the well walls. "He's going after us one by one, and he's good; didn't even hear him until he was right on me. Damnit, I doubt even Gibbs will be able to stop him in time."

"We're going to die down here aren't we?" said Tim morosely. He squinted at Tony, barely able to make him out in the dimness of the old well. Having double vision from the blow to the head didn't help either.

"Gibb's and Ziva will be looking for us," said Tony, trudging around the boundaries of the stone lined well through the stagnant water. "This well is ancient and barely holding together further up. I'll bet I can cli …, " Tony stumbled in the water and grabbed at what had tripped him. He pulled up the sodden remains of a thigh bone. "Think we can confirm that Tucker was the murderer we were hunting for and as a bonus, we've just found his dumping ground."

Immediately Tim blanched. He couldn't see below the murky water but he had felt lots of debris under his shoes – when he'd still been able to feel anything with his feet. He hated to think that he was standing on about a decades' worth of a serial killers victims. "Gibbs and Ziva are probably miles away by now. There's over seventy acres of forest to hunt through and we're going to either be frozen or drowned in the next few hours." Tim shivered and wrapped his good soaked arm around himself.

Tony glanced his way, "Instead of griping, McGrim, why don't you help me find a foot hold or a loose stone or something."

Tim sighed, too tired to argue with Tony. He started running his good hand half heartedly over the slime covered rocks before Tony started complaining. He hated that the suspected cold case murdering bastard they had been putting together a case against, wasn't as out of the country as he was supposed to be and had gotten the drop on him, stripped him of his weapons and tossing him down an ancient well in the middle of nowhere. He hated that he was standing in someone's dumping ground for bodies. He hated it more that he was barely holding on to consciousness and was likely to pass out soon. But mostly he hated that Tony had gotten himself caught and was likely to die with him as well. Dying alone definitely beat dying and knowing that a friend was going to die right along with you. Yup, they were going to die down here together if Gibbs didn't manage to find them soon. The water was so cold.

Surprisingly, Tim did find a loose stone in the well wall and started working at it with frozen fingers. Just as he pulled it free, Tony 's shoulder bumped into his and Tim staggered splashing through the water and biting back a cry of pain.

"You all right there, McGee?" Tony's voice was suddenly filled with concern.

Tim knew he'd been busted. "Yeah. Only what you'd expect to have after being tossed down a well and then having your partner land on top of you. How about you?"

Tony grunted. "I'm fine, just a few scratches is all. Tucker must have had your weapon. He made me walk here and then pushed me in. I have to admit, you make for a nice landing platform, McGee."

'Yeah, thanks," said McGee. "I found a loose stone there and dug it out, but the gap will be too dangerous to use as a foot hold unless you find another decent sized one for balance."

"Thought of that already. If you're up to it, I'll balance one foot on your shoulder and the other in the gap while I work another couple of stones out above. Wish I had my knife though."

"I won't be too happy if you fall on top of me again, Tony."

"Got that, but it's better than doing nothing. I'm pretty good at rock climbing and I can see lots of spaces further up where I can get good toe and finger holds. It'll be just this bottom twelve feet that are gonna be hard, especially with all the slime everywhere."

Tim nodded in the dark, gathering his strength for what Tony needed. "How do you want to do this?"

"Well, I think the best bet is if you can hold your breath and bend over for a minute while I use your back for a footstool. Then if you can straighten up when I've got my foot in that space, I'll be able to balance between your shoulder and the toe hold while I work another couple of bricks out."

"Sounds like a plan," said Tim leaning against the wall as a wave of dizziness hit him.

"Now, what size shoes do you take McGee?"

"Huh? Oh, nine and a half. Why?"

"That'll do just fine. Tighter shoes make for better grip. They are standard issue lace ups aren't they?"

Tim nodded in the dark, and immediately regretted it as his dizziness levels increased.

Tony caught at Tim as he slowly tilted sideways. "Hey, hey! You alright there, McGee?"

Tim yelped and grabbed at his arm.

"What?" asked Tony instantly letting go.

"Broken collar bone – and it's not a might be - it's definately," said Tim through gritted teeth. At least the pain had managed to wake him up a bit.

"And you were gonna let me _stand_ on it!"

"I was going to let you stand on my _other_ shoulder, Tony."

Tony squinted carefully at Tim, taking in his exhausted and shivering state. "Exactly how long have you been down here, Tim?"

"Oh, about four hours. He knocked me out pretty much right after Gibb's sent me to go meet the rangers at the top of the trail."

"Four hours! So you're injured and probably hypothermic already."

"It's a good bet," said Tim unwillingly letting some of his exhaustion sound out in his voice.

"You think you'd be alright for half an hour? It'd take me that long to get the harness back here for you probie."

Tim sighed. "I'll be fine,"

"I need you to be honest here, Tim. I'm not leaving you if you're gonna pass out."

Tim frowned. "You'd end up hypothermic as well. What good would that do us?"

"At least I could hold your face out of the water while we wait for Gibbs to find us."

"I've already told you that any chance of Gibb's or Ziva finding us could take hours, Tony. Your best bet is to get out before you get too cold to feel your fingers and toes."

"You just about passed out at my feet there, Tim …"

"Yeah and that maniac is hunting Gibbs and Ziva. You said yourself that he's good. You've got to get out and help if you can, Tony. I'll wait right here."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, I hear you, Probie. You'd better be alive at the end of this or I'm gonna kill you."

Tim managed a half-hearted chuckle. Then he leaned against the wall with his good shoulder. "You're gonna have to pull off my shoes by yourself Tony, if you need them."

"Yeah," said Tony. "They'll help. I've only got loafers on today."

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN


	2. Chapter 2

Tony splashed and stumbled around in the water as he tried to pull on Tim's half size too small shoes and tie the laces tight without actually putting his head into the ... swampy, bacterial, stagnant stuff that was making his skin crawl just to be standing in.

Tim took the opportunity to lean against the well wall and gather his strength. It was surprisingly difficult to do and he reckoned that this head injury might just be a little more serious than he had thought.

Misery loves company; the words sort of popped there into his head as Tim watched Tony knotting the laces light. Yeah, as much as he _didn't_ want Tony to die here with him he also had to admit that dying alone – drowned in a bone filled dank, dark well full of filthy water might just about be at the top of his list of ways _not_ to die if you had any choice about it. Tim frowned at himself. It was getting harder to think straight.

"There," said Tony looking up at the well wall. "I can see a stone that's already about half way out. If I can't use it as a step I'll work it loose and then I'll only have to find one or two more toe holds before I reach the easy parts. You ready McGee?"

Tim took a deep breath. "Try to be quick, Tony," he said. He positioned himself awkwardly trying not to lose Tony's larger loafers off of his slightly smaller feet. He kicked away some unseen debris, stood below the gap in the wall and took a few more deep breaths before ducking beneath the filthy water, bracing his good arm against the wall as Tony stepped up onto his back. It only took about twenty seconds but for Tim with his face in stagnant water filled with human remains it felt like forever.

Tony grunted and stuffed fingers into a mud filled gap between the protruding stone and its neighbour. Tim shifted underneath him and caught his foot guiding it carefully to his good shoulder. He grunted as Tony shifted balance and put more weight onto it.

"You okay down there, McGee?"

"Peachy," said Tim with a strained voice. "I'll be even better when you're off of my shoulder."

Tony grunted, digging at the mud around the loose rock. He pulled the stone free and dropped it into the water. "Got one and I can see an even easier one just a little higher."

Tim sighed in relief as Tony's weight lifted off his shoulder. Even though it had been his good shoulder, the pressure of Tony's weight had radiated across to the bad one and now he felt a little sick. Actually a lot sick.

Tim lifted his head and moved around to watch as Tony climbed another step higher and started feeling along the wall for another hand hold. Soon Tony was half way out of the well. Tim felt his body tilting and a wave of searing heat flushed up and down his torso shocking Tim with the intensity of it. He staggered barely keeping his feet and wasn't even looking when Tony's body dropped on top of him again slamming his head once again against the well wall … .

Tony twisted around and came up spitting water and swearing imaginatively. He staggered unsteadily as old bones snapped under his weight. "Damn it! I lost my grip!" He swore again swiping a hand over his badly scrapped cheek bone.

McGee didn't answer him. Tony cursed again and snatched at the lump floating in the water, rolling McGee's body upright and pulling his head up out of the water. "McGee, McGee? Gotta teach you the art of dodging, McGee." Tim didn't stir at all and Tony frowned. He shifted his grip feeling frantically for a pulse at McGee's neck and sighed in relief when he found it. Tony tapped at McGee's cheek. "Come-on McSleepy, wakey, wakey. This is not the time or place to take a nap. The longer we're here the colder we'll get," Tony tapped at Tim's cheek a little harder. "Actually, McGee, you're not all that cold all of a sudden."

Tony leaned up against the wall and shifted his grip on Tim again so that he could check his partner more carefully. He found a lump the size of a small egg on the back of Tim's head and a long cut right over it stretching up to a second smaller lump coming up. That one must have been courtesy of having Tony drop on top of him once again and by the size of the lumps, he doubted that Tim would be coming around any time soon. Tony had had a similar sized lump with his last concussion and it had taken him three hours to wake up.

Belatedly, Tony remembered Tim's broken shoulder and tried repositioning his grip on Tim to protect the injury. That's when his fingers slipped into the neat hole in Tim's jacket. Tony felt his heart skip a beat. He probed closer and found the sluggish stream of hot blood seeping out of the bullet hole in Tim's shoulder.

"What in the hell, Tim?" You've been shot!" Tony pulled Tim's sagging body up higher against his own chest. "You never said anything about being shot – or even about the head wound, kid."

Tony felt again for Tim's pulse and this time realised that Tim's pulse wasn't all as strong and steady as it should be.

"Damn it! Damn it to hell! "HEY!" he screamed "GIBBS, ZIVA, HELP!"

Even with the yelling, Tim didn't stir. Tony pulled Tim up tighter against his chest and leaned his head back against his shoulder. He searched through his pockets for anything useful for Tim's wound and then through Tim's pockets as well. A packet of sodden tissues was all he found. He packed that over the wound, plastic packaging and all and clumsily tied the thing in place with Tim's belt over one shoulder and under his arm. It was the best he could do and probably wouldn't help much but he had nothing else to work with. He stood there for a whole minute, holding Tim's feverish body against his before the awful quiet and cold started getting to him.

"You know something Probie? I hate wells. I can't tell you enough how much I hate wells. I mean I _really_ hate 'em. I've had nightmares about them since I was eight years old," Tony paused to swipe water off his face. "It's probably why I didn't even bother to ask if you were hurt when I fell in on top of you. Rude of me that, but all I wanted was to get out again and the faster the better. Tony shivered, feeling the cold beginning to seep into his bones. "Sorry about that Probie. I should be looking out for you better. I just … never had a real live little brother to take care of before and I'm not very good at it. Oh, I'm an expert at the teasing and the practical jokes part – learned that at boarding school - but the looking out for someone's health and safety thing – well. That's gonna need some work."

Tim lay limply in his arms and Tony squinted around edgily in the dimness. "I guess a better plan would have been to try and make some sort of platform out of all of these bones and stones we're standing on. At least you could have sat down while I went for help. But no – I was more interested in saving my own ass than worrying about you."

Tim twitched slightly. The feverish temperature was fading as the cold of the water permeated, and in moments Tim's body was shivering weakly against his.

Tony tapped at Tim's cheeks again but Tim was deeply out. The second lump on the back of Tim's head was getting larger too and Tony grimaced remembering his own last concussion. "You're going to have one hell of a headache when you wake up McGee." He swapped arm grips on McGee to ease the strain in his muscles. McGee might have lost a lot of weight lately but he was still heavy.

Tim moaned a little and Tony tapped again at his friends jaw. "Come-on Probie, you need to wake up now. If you don't I'll be forced to tell you some stories about my life."

Tim's head slumped back against Tony's shoulder limply.

"Okay then. Don't say I didn't warn you. Let's see, _why_ do I hate wells so much I hear you _not_ ask. Well, I was seven years old. Only seven. We were stuck in this little no-where town somewhere 'cause a heavy snow storm and blocked the roads and some little five year old kid was reported as missing. Well, the local LEO's wanted every possible hand helping with a line search and I couldn't think of anything better to do. My mom was only thirty feet or so to my left and dad was about that distance on my right and we just marched through the snow looking for this lost kid. I thought it was heaps of fun. Even threw some snowballs at my dad as we went."

In his arms Tim stirred a little as his shivers gave way to fever again.

"Anyways, we got to the edge of the woods about five miles from the kids home. Tall pine trees everywhere just like the ones above this well, and I saw a bunch of bushes and I thought : you know that'd make for a great hiding spot for a little kid. I could even see a nice neat hole in the hedge for a kid to fit through so I dived in and had a look."

Tim stirred restlessly slowly coming back to consciousness, fever switching to shivers again.

"I found part of a collapsed rotted well cover and I could see this little kid floating with dead eyes and his blond hair fanned out like an Angel's halo. I never yelled so loud in my life." Tony grimaced in the dark. "Mom, she hugged me all night that night. She had this special hug just for me. She'd run her hand through my hair over and over and hold me tight."

Tony shivered, his teeth beginning to chatter with cold. "Anyways, I've hated wells ever since. Had nightmares for years afterward – always seeing myself there in the bottom of the well next to this blond haired kid and look at us now Tim – you're the blond haired kid and we're gonna die at the bottom of a well. I guess some nightmares do come true.

Tony found himself running his hand comfortingly over the lumps on the back of Tim's head. He swapped holds again on Tim and pulled him closer as another flush of fever took Tim from ice cold to nearly hot in seconds.

"I really hope that nightmare doesn't come true kid," said Tony. "Hell, what am I saying! Nightmares don't come true. You're not a kid you're a grown man – a field agent and your hair is more brownish than blond. Gibbs will find us. He's … you know _Gibbs _– the greatest real life super hero in existence. He's practically infallible except where it comes to marriage, and Lord knows even superheros have at least one flaw. Come on Tim – wake up, one sided conversations aren't really my thing."

Tim shifted slightly tucking his head under Tony's chin. Tony stroked the back of Tim's head. "You should be conscious for this epic moment Tim. I haven't been this honest since I wrote Santa a letter when I turned about nine or so. "You want to know what I wished for? What I wanted more than anything on Earth? Funny how I still want it more than any other thing – even that gorgeous Porshe of yours McGee. If you don't wake up soon I'm going to have to tell you."

"HEY, HELP ANYONE!"

Tony listened for a response but all was still quiet above. "Here's another creepy coincidence for you McGee. It's December 21. Probably the exact same day that I wrote that letter to Santa all those years back. I'm not going to lose it over another coincidence like that you know McGee – although it'd sure help if you could be alright kid. I'm not very good at the nurturing thing, I already told you that my forte is practical jokes."

"Okay for Santa's letter? I asked Santa if I could get a hug - you know just like the ones my mum used to give me with her hand stroking my hair and her holding me safe." I'd have given anything to have that again. But I was in boarding school and hugs were never on the school schedule.

Tim stirred in his arms.

"T… Tony?"

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN**_

_**Hope you all enjoy. I'm going to be frantically busy for Christmas so I've posted early to make sure I don't forget. Merry Christmas to all - especially those alone, far from family, or providing care for a loved one this year. Review are always appreciated of course. God bless, and Happy Birthday to our Lord Jesus.**_


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey McGee, how are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a truck. It's … fre … freezing!" Tim straightened unsteadily. "Damn, I feel sick," Tim turned quickly and dry heaved against the wall." He straightened unsteadily afterwards and leaned his back against the wall for support. "How … how long?"

"How long we're you out? About an hour. You've been shot, McGee." Tony coughed and then continued, "Didn't you think that it was important to let me know about a little thing like that?"

"Shot?" McGee plucked at the belt across his chest, shook his head and winced closing his eyes against the pain. "I thought it was just … just broken again, it feels about the same way as … , don't remember getting shot. I'm sorry Tony."

Tony's eyebrows rose in the dark. "That's alright kid," he said softly and coughed again.

Tim's eyes shot open and focussed intently on Tony and then up toward the light above. "You – you've got to get out, Tony."

"What? Are you nuts, Tim? You're injured - enough that I think, – no – I _know_ you're going to pass our again sooner or later. You're bleeding, you're feverish and that's probably from this disgusting bacterial swamp full of dead bodies and the fact that that bullet is still _inside_ of you. Don't let me get started on the not one but _two_ spectacular egg sized lumps you've got on the back of that …"

"You've _got_ to get out, Tony. Before you're too cold or too sick to make it," said Tim pushing him towards the first toe hole. He looked worriedly at Tony. "Your coughing already and this … this soup we're standing in plus the cold air are gonna wreck what's left of your lungs, and think of Gibbs and Ziva – that murderer is going to hunt them down like … like animals, Tony. You have to get out!"

Tony gripped at Tim's pushing frozen hand. "You think I'm going to leave you here alone to drown Probie? Are you _nuts_?"

Tim looked around helplessly and then pushed at Tony again. "If you don't you'll just die too, Tony and the bad guy - he'll get Gibbs and Ziva and you can't let that happen. They don't know that he's even come back. He's supposed to have skipped the country three months ago."

"You'll _drown_!"

Tim paused, shooting Tony a startled glance at the intensity of Tony's rebuttal and then shook his head. "No, no I won't. I can … I can float, Tony." He shivered wrapping his good arm around himself. "I'm really good at it. Almost fell asleep while floating once. I think I can float even if I lose consciousness. Besides, it's basic maths Tony. Your life, Gibbs and Ziva's against mine. And then there's a bad guy to catch before he murders all of us and get's away with it, and ... ."

"If I fell down again I'd probably kill you, Probie – and I'm just saying that I'm climbing a sheer wall here without any climbing equipment what-so-ever – not even gloves. The chances are that I will fall again and you are going to be flattened like a pancake."

"Tony," said Tim firmly. "Gibbs and Ziva need you. You nearly made it out last time and you can do it. I know you can. I can't climb out or I'd do it myself so you are going to have to save Gibb's and Ziva and I am going to wait here until you get help and I'll float when I get tired.

Tony squinted at Tim wishing that he could see clearer. He thought about what Tim was trying to make him do. "You're sure you can float? Are you telling me the truth, Tim?" he asked seriously.

"It's a good day for truths, Tony," said Tim pushing at him again. "Now, I'm only going to have the energy to do this once more and you'd better climb carefully so you don't fall on top of me again. I know you can do it – you _nearly_ made it last time."

Tony fumbled in the dark and patted at Tim's feverish cheek. "Okay kid, but you'd better take off that jacket so it doesn't weigh you down."

Tim turned tugging ineffectually at his jacket. "Help me with this, okay?"

Tony reached out to carefully pull Tim's jacket off. He winced when Tim yelped in pain.

"Are you sure about this, Tim?"

"Yeah, Tony,"

"Heart of a lion," said Tony. "You stay _alive_ McGee, or I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life."

"I'm planning on surviving; don't worry about me. I've got Christmas presents to hand out so you go and save Gibbs and Ziva."

It almost broke Tony's heart having to make Tim bend over in the water and act as a footstool again. He got his feet jammed into the gaps that he had made and twisted his head to make sure that Tim surfaced again.

Tim came up coughing and spluttering and spat out water. He leaned against the wall as far out of Tony's way as possible.

Tony focussed then. He put aside the feeling that he was leaving Tim to die. He put aside that guilt ridden part of himself that was desperate to get out even if it did mean leaving Tim behind. He put aside the image of that poor little kid dead at the bottom of another well. He focussed hard. Toe grip, balance, shift weight carefully. Hand grip, make sure it sticks before you depend on it. Line up next toe hold, carefully lift up and balance. Again and make it stick.

Half way up he felt a tickle in his throat that threatened to send him into a fit of coughing but he swallowed past it carefully wishing he'd had more than just a sip of coffee that morning and a few gulps of disgusting well water. He cleared the slick moss away that had made him fall the last time and climbed another step. A glance down showed Tim standing right up against the wall and watching him carefully. Tony had a flash of Tim being flattened and this time killed when he fell on top of him again and Tony's half frozen fingers found new strength. He focussed back on the climb again and concentrated so hard that he didn't realise how much time had passed. It was just him and the wall. It got easier to climb as he got higher and he made sure that every move was as safe and risk free as he could possibly make it. Suddenly he was at the top gripping at roots and grass clumps and hauling himself up and out onto solid ground. He lay there panting around each aching muscle and waited while he relaxed fingers that were cramped up with cold and the strain. He breathed each breath in relief, immensely thankful at being out of there. Finally, carefully, he rolled to stick his head over the well edge.

There was Tim – already floating on his back with a small shaft of sunlight turning short hair bright blond and Tony nearly vomited.

"Thank God," called Tim. "You did great Tony. But be careful. We're in Tucker's terrain and he's damned good."

"Yeah," called Tony through a tight throat. "You stay alive there Tim, that's an order. I'll be back for you as soon as I can."

"Yeah," called Tim, and Tony straightened carefully backing away from the well, trying not to think about how exhausted Tim had looked and sounded. That last glimpse of Tim would be haunting his nightmares for months to come and Tony rubbed at his eyes as if he could peel away that image from his eyeballs. He took a deep breath and turned his back on the well - although it was probably the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

**_Sorry to have made you wait. We've got unexpected guests who planned to stay a night and now are staying three weeks. So we're doing the tourist thing. I've snuck five minutes to post what I've got. Hope you enjoy!_**


	4. Chapter 4

Tony turned away from the well. It was funny how it was both the easiest move he had ever made in that he hated wells and the hardest move he had ever made – in that he was leaving his injured Probie behind in a potentially deadly situation. That thought had Tony stopping in his tracks in indecision for a moment. But staying behind wasn't going to do anyone any good. He had to move on just like Tim had told him to.

Tony took a few deep breaths, annoyed by the scratchiness of his throat that threatened to make him cough again. It was afternoon now and the air was crisp with the threat of the first snow for the season. He was soaked to the skin and already half frozen, but he barely registered the fact as he carefully got his bearings. Then he grabbed at his ruined Armani shirt and tore off a strip.

Gibbs had taught him some tracking skills and about how to stop himself from getting lost in the forest where there weren't any convenient street signs marking the way. At the end of the day though, Tony was a city boy through and through and he was going to use every technique he could remember to make sure he didn't lose the path back to Tim. He carefully tied a strip of the shirt to a tree branch that was aimed at the well and set off back the way Tucker had made him come.

It had been roughly two hours now since Tucker had shoved him down the well and by now he was assuming that Tucker was tracking Gibbs or Ziva and was well out of range and not likely to stop him again. Tony backtracked, marking the trail as he went with shirt shreds.

Twenty minutes later and Tony stopped in his tracks.

Oh, man, this was not good. He would have thought that by now he'd have come across the place where Tucker had caught him and made him drop all of his gear including his weapons and cell phone. But with each tree he passed he was getting more and more unsure about the direction. All it would take was for him to have gone around a single tree the wrong way and he'd be lost.

"Come on Tony," he muttered to himself. "Tim needs you. You can't lose the trail. I swear, I'm going to take those forestry refresher courses again. There's a killer on the loose. I can't afford to get lost, so what would Gibbs do? He'd get up high and take bearings."

Tony got in under the sweeping branches of the biggest tree in the area and started climbing up it. He was only a third of the way up before he picked out the glint of metal in the distance. It was probably the van. Tony paused to cough in his sleeve and to look around to see if he could pick out anything else of interest, but there was nothing else to see except more trees. He climbed down, marked the tree with cloth and changed his direction heading directly towards the van.

Five minutes later and Tony found the spot where Tucker must have caught Tim. The ground cover was disturbed and there was blood on the pine needles and all over a small rock. Tony found Tim's cell phone shoved under a half rotted fallen tree trunk. The phone had a huge crack across the screen, and when Tony picked it up it fell apart in his hands.

"Crap," cursed Tony, dropping the bits and feeling under the log again. He found Tim's wallet and another piece of metal which Tony picked up and examined.

There was dirt and blood on it and it was dinted, but Tony could still identify it as a silencer attachment for a hand weapon. Tony ran his eyes over the scene carefully. Tim had probably fought back when Tucker had shot him and had managed to damage Tucker's weapon with the rock before Tucker had overpowered him. That was probably why Tucker had taken Tim's weapon and why Tony hadn't been shot like Tim had been before being thrown down the well. Gun shots without a silencer would have been heard for miles around and Tucker wouldn't risk that when he knew there were other agents close by.

Tony tucked what he could find into his pocket and tied another piece of his shirt to mark the spot.

Half an hour.

It was already half an hour since he'd left Tim. Tony had to stifle a fit of ragged coughing in his icy sodden sleeve before he headed out again. The boss was going to kill him for leaving Tim behind like that. Who did that anyway? Especially to an injured team mate. Tim was seriously hurt and he'd left him behind in a well where he could be drowning right that moment. What kind of big brother did that make him? If he'd had any sort of decency he would have waited it out with McGee in the well. That way he could have been sure that Tim _didn't_ drown. Gibbs was too smart to fall for anything Tucker could throw at him and then he'd have found the well eventually. Gibbs was just that good.

But no. He'd been too into himself again. Anxious to get out of the well and it didn't matter that Tim was going to drown. Tony had wanted out the minute he'd been pushed into the damned thing. If he was honest with himself he'd have stayed with Tim if they had been stuck in any other body of water and the situation had been similar. It was just his fear of wells that had made the difference.

Tim could be dying right now, and he was going to have to live with the guilt for the rest of his life.

Gibbs was going to kill him right after Ziva gutted him.

Tony gritted his teeth as he paused to orientate himself properly. He broke off a small sturdy branch and grinned at the wickedly sharp looking end on it. He coughed into his sleeve before he set off again.

The best thing he could do was warn Gibbs and Ziva, grab the harness and ropes and get back to Tim as fast as possible.

And if Tucker crossed his path again he was going to skewer the bastard.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Tim floated in the water, focussing on the circular view above with pine tree branches just barely visible. He was glad that Tony had gotten out; glad that Gibbs wouldn't be losing two of the team on the same day.

He blinked eyes open, surprised that they had been closed.

When had he closed his eyes?

Tim scrambled upright, nearly losing Tony's shoes and leaned his back against the wall of the well again. His shoulder burned fiercely in protest at the move, but Tim didn't care. The jolt of pain had woken him up a bit. He had long ago lost feeling in his fingers and toes and his body had stopped shivering as well and yeah, he was in serious trouble.

It was getting hard to concentrate now. But the words hyperthermia and shock danced around in his head along with other unpleasant ones like hypovolemic shock and concussion. Still it was the cold that was getting to him more than anything, that and the coughing. Coughing jarred his shoulder and woke up the pain. Coughing just made misery worse.

He really needed to stay awake though. That was important. Tony was getting a harness for him. He just had to wait and stay awake.

He didn't want to die.

No, he didn't want to die. There was still so much he hadn't done with his life. Still, he found himself going through the ritual that he'd gone through a few times when things had gotten bad. His thoughts went to family; to Sarah and Penelope; to the Admiral and his mom, to Abby and Gibbs and Ziva and Tony, to Ducky and Jimmy and his friend. At least he had his Will done this time. At least he didn't have to worry about the paper work … .

NO!

Tim woke up with his face in the water, he coughed fiercely, sending sprays of stagnant water to splatter on the well wall and rested a feverish forehead against the stones.

Oh God! He'd nearly drowned. And now he barely had the strength to stand at all. Where was Tony with that harness?

Tim looked up at the circle of light at the top of the well and fought off black dizzy spots that wouldn't go away.

Tim sighed. There was nothing else to do now. He lay down to float. Lying there in the water looking up at the light was not so bad really – except that it was freezing cold. Actually drowning was supposed to be not too unpleasant in the end and Tim doubted that he'd be conscious enough to worry about it when it happened.

He had once been good at floating, but that was years ago when he'd had a bit more buoyant fat on his frame to help him stay afloat. He didn't know if he really could stay afloat now that he was thin. And even less so if he was unconscious - which wouldn't be too long in coming.

Fever rose inside of him and he dreamed …

_Gibbs and the team stood before a gravestone and Tim could see that some years had passed. Gibbs was retiring from NCIS to concentrate on his new life with Abby Borin-Gibbs who was round and happy in her pregnancy. She held tight to Gibbs's arm and Tim could see a bond between them as tight as any he had ever seen._

_Tony was looking sadder, sterner and much older, grey haired sideburns making him look more like his father every day, and he had a girl on his arm, a dark haired girl that Tim could not quiet see. Between Tony and the brunet stood a young boy of about eight or nine years of age. Abby stood beside a tall handsome man with as many tattoos decorating his skin as she had, and she was also round with pregnancy and wore a relaxed, contented smile that Tim had never seen on her before. Ziva had also changed – hair cut short, and wearing a skirt - but she stood far away now, beside a bookish looking man with a handsome face. Ducky had a cane in his hand and Jimmy and Breena had twins by the hand. All together they stood in front of the gravestones – one for Kate and one for him … ._

Tim murmured feverishly, twitching in the water. He blinked unseeingly at the circle of light above and found his thoughts drifting. Abby's face. Gibbs. His mom. Tony's voice. Half heard conversations.

A story told.

A realisation made in half conscious thoughts: He couldn't die yet. He had one last Christmas present to give…

One last present …

Slowly his eyes closed and he sank deeply into unconsciousness.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

_**I am so sorry this has been late. Post Christmas we've been inundated with family and friends and I'm STILL trying to get over it all, also I've had all sorts of trouble with posting - you might have noticed I also lost my thumbnail image - grrrr. Anyways I hope you enjoy and I WILL post the next chapter soon - Fanfic willing. Pinky promise!**_


	5. Chapter 5

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Tony finally made it back to the small grove where the truck was parked and he paused. Something wasn't right. Much as he was desperate to grab the harness and spare cell phone he knew that something was wrong.

Tony studied the area carefully, but there wasn't anything obvious that he could see. It looked just the way they had left things that morning. He moved carefully to the side trying to see what was setting off his internal hinky meter and spotted a glint on something that was out of place: A trip wire. Tony crouched down low and followed the length of fine fishing line to a tree. He stepped back and tossed a small branch at the wire.

Zing!

A knife flew across the area – meant to kill who ever set off the trap. Tony swallowed with difficulty past his burningly sore throat. He pried the knife out of the tree trunk and started going over the ground around the truck carefully. There was a second trip wire heading in from the path leading to the cabin. Tony retrieved Tim's knife from where it was flung after he set that trap off.

Slowly he spiralled his way closer to the truck finding a third wire attached to a branch that was big enough to knock out someone if they had gone in unawares.

Finally Tony felt safe enough to approach the truck but he hesitated before yanking at the car door handle. He peered in through the glass and spotted an electrical wire leading down by the door and another by the driver's door as well.

"Damn you to hell Tucker!" murmured Tony. He crouched down and lay in the dirt beside the truck and soon spotted a flash of blinking lights attached to the trucks fuel line. "I don't have time for this," cursed Tony. Unless he spent precious time trying to dismantle the bomb he wasn't going to be able to get the spare cell phone.

Tony went to the back of the truck and looked carefully for wires but found nothing. He was going to have to risk it. He stretched out his hand, snatched open the back door and dove into the dirt just in case.

Nothing exploded.

Tony climbed in carefully trying not to rock the truck. He snatched up the ropes, harness and the big first-aid kit and then a can of spray paint and carefully climbed out of the truck again hoping not to set off the bomb. On each side, back and front of the truck he sprayed the word 'bomb!' with an arrow pointing to where the wires were and on a piece of paper he wrote a quick note:

Gibb's, Ziva. Tucker's here hunting us. He shot McGee and threw him down a well – I'm going to save Tim – left a trail to the northeast from the front of the truck about thirty minutes away. There's a bomb under the truck. Be careful!

Tony coughed hard into his wet sleeve. He got a sizeable stone and put the note on the hood of the truck with the stone holding it in place. It was the best he could do without getting the phone. He tied one more large piece of his shredded shirt to a branch to mark the start of the trail and started running back heading for Tim and the well.

He was so glad that he had marked the trail consistently. Even having just travelled the trail he found it confusing to make his way back. Street signs and straight lines: that's what was needed, decided Tony. Every forest should have them. Actually every patch of land bigger than a football field ought to have them decided Tony.

He coughed into his sleeve again and blinked at the gurgly, clogged sound that he was making. Ohh yeah, he was coming down with a nasty cough. He'd never even felt this one coming. He'd been perfectly fine this morning. Then he remembered how Tim had been coughing and the nasty stagnant stuff that he'd swallowed more than once. That damned well. There was nasty stuff down that damned well. Tony hurried on despite the cough and his wheezing breath. He had to get Tim out and every minute could mean the difference between life and death for Tim.

He made good time thanks to the strips of cloth, and he was starting to see that he was getting close to the well.

Slam.

Tony blinked away black spots from his vision. He was suddenly flat on his back and staring at tree branches above him. What?

"Major Kelly always said to follow your instincts," said Tucker from the left of Tony. Tony could see right up the barrel of McGee's weapon that Tucker held trained on him.

Tony rolled slowly to his feet, keeping Tucker in sight the whole time.

"I thought you were looking for the rest of my team?" fished Tony rubbing at his side where Tucker had hit him.

"Yeah, they're both far enough away that they'll keep. I had a hunch I had to come back and check on my handywork. How in hell did you get out of that well?"

Tony smirked. "Had help didn't I."

"I shot that kid before I dropped him in. He was in no shape to help you get out."

"Well there you go. You should get to know people a little better before you go and shoot them," said Tony, inching his hand towards a pocket with a knife in it. "McGee has the heart of a lion. He's not just a kid and he's a lot tougher than he looks."

Tucker titled his head considering. "You're right there. I already underestimated that fed. He damaged my silencer before I knocked him out. Cost me six hundred big ones for that silencer. This time I'll just shoot him in the head after I've dropped you back on top of him again."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Could we just skip that? I've already fallen down that well enough times today."

Tucker sneered. "You shouldn't have come looking for me then should you fed." He flicked the gun to the side indicating to Tony that he should get moving. "After I kill you, I'm going to have to clean up all of these trail markers that you left before I can get back to some more hunting fun."

Tony side stepped, dodged and struck out with the knife he had but Tucker was already out of range.

"Drop the knife, fed or I'll shoot."

Tony glared back, tightening the grip on the knife. "You don't want to shoot me out here, Tucker. You'd let everyone within twenty miles know that you have a gun, including one of the best federal agents in the country. And once they hear a gunshot they'll be on the alert and they'll come hunting for you."

"I don't have to shoot you to take a soft city boy like you down, fed," said Tucker with a confident grin. "I could kill you a hundred different ways with just my hands."

Tony sneered back. "Tough words, Tucker. But I've read your file. I know what kind of lily-livered …"

Tucker snatched a six inch knife out of a thigh sheath and slashed the air only inches from Tony's neck. There was anger in his eyes but not the uncontrolled fury that Tony had been hoping for.

"I don't need a gun to take you down, fed. You'll be easy meat just like all the other cops and feds I've killed over the years."

"That's what they all say," said Tony. "Every single psychopath out there thinks he's James Bond materi …"

Tony jumped backward as Tucker's knife slashed the air again, and felt a burning across his chest. He glanced down for a second surprised to see his filthy shirt quickly turning red. If he hadn't have moved when he had then it would have been his throat sliced open.

Tucker grinned at him, crouched down in a fighters stance with legs and arms spread wide. "This is gonna be so much fun …"

A crack split the air, and Tucker froze as a red spot bloomed on his forehead. He crumpled to the ground like a puppet that had had its strings cut.

Tony turned and focussed with difficulty through the trees and saw Ziva and Gibbs walking cautiously closer, followed by two rangers.

Tony heaved in a breath. "Great timing boss, but we've got no time. We've got to save McGee." Tony didn't waste another second. He snatched up the gear he'd been carrying and started running for the well.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN


	6. Chapter 6

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Tony scrambled for the well edge ignoring the calls of Ziva and even Gibbs from behind him. He had a gut feeling that time was running out for Tim and flashes of information from the day crowded his mind as he tried to run faster. He flashed on Tim standing in the chest high water looking as grey as clear glass. Flashed again on his own hand finding the bullet hole in Tim's back. Flashed a third time on Tim's face as McGee tried to make him believe that he could float even if he was unconscious - and that image froze in his mind – and now that he had time to remember the moment, he realised that Tim had been lying. McGee had never been able to lie well. He couldn't lie properly to save his own life and Tony had ignored the signs because he had wanted out of the well so damned badly.

Tony snatched at the last marker of torn shirt. The well was just ahead. Gibbs's hand clamped down on his shoulder, trying to make him stop but Tony was desperate and wrenched free, scrambling up the small incline and diving onto the ground in front of the well.

"Tim? Mcgee?" he yelled and nearly felt his heart stop in his chest because just like last time, it was the kid in the well all over again. Swirls of snow fell past his head, toward McGee's body floating in the water with his eyes closed. "Open your eyes, McGee!" screamed Tony.

Another body fell down beside him and Gibbs cursed as he took in the scene.

Tony watched with his eyes widening as McGee's body slowly started to sink beneath the water.

"McGee! Wake up McGee, that's an order!" yelled Tony. He didn't wait for a reply he started unravelling the rope as fast as he could.

Gibbs snatched the rope from his hands, "Ziva, Max and you Tony, I'm going down, we've got no time for tying off. Hold the rope."

"No boss," yelled Tony snatching the rope back, "It's gotta be me. Iv'e got to get him. I promised I'd bring the harness."

Gibbs frowned looking at Tony's frantic, blood covered face but he let Tony have the rope, "Get moving then," said Gibbs briskly belaying out rope to Ziva and the Ranger behind him.

Tony wrapped the rope around his body and eased himself over the edge using the rope to counter balance his weight. "Lower me down!"

Tony concentrated on walking his way down the well. "I'm here, McGee!" he yelled out, wishing he could hear McGee moving. He found the handholds he'd used and realised he was close. Tony twisted and peered down at the water. But all he could see were air bubbles slowly coming to the surface. Tony let go of the rope and let himself fall the last six feet. He landed right next to Tim's body and wasted no time hauling Tim into the air.

"Got him!" he yelled up at Gibbs.

"I'm getting the harness ready, yelled Gibbs. "Max is calling for an ambulance."

Tony barely heard. He pulled Tim's sodden, limp body up against his in the freezing water and pulled inward under Tim's ribs. Water spewed from Tim's mouth and Tony repeated the move twice more before searching for a pulse.

"He's not … I've got to breath for him Gibb's," yelled Tony. Tony cursed, trying to think how he could give the breath of life when he couldn't lay Tim down anywhere. He turned Tim so that he was pressed up against the well wall and pressed his mouth against Tim's giving two deep breaths then he straightened putting his hands under the water and pushed over Tim's heart while trying to be careful of the sternum.

The harness was being lowered and blocked some of the light from above. Tony continued with the chest compressions. He coughed raggedly but didn't slow down his chest compressions. "Come on kid. You're too young to die. Gimme a pulse. Breathe for me."

Tony gave Tim two more breaths and felt the harness bump against his back. He pulled it down into the water and started attaching straps around Tim. It was hard with Tim's body slumped against him and visibility almost zero. But Tony got it fitted as fast as he could. He gave Tim two more breaths and positioned Tim's body so that he was slumped more or less in a seated position within the harness.

"Haul him up fast, boss. I can't get his heart started down here!"

Gibbs's head disappeared from the edge of the well. Tony steadied the harness as it made its way back up the well.

Gibbs hauled in rope and snatched at the top of the harness, hauling it up and out of the well. "Got him," he yelled down to Tony. "Let's get the harness off of him. Then Ziva you do rescue breathing and try and start his heart while Max and I get Tony up."

"He's half frozen," said Ziva, as she unclipped the straps on the harness. "And he is very blue."

"Do your best, Ziva," said Gibbs pulling the harness out from under Tim. He gave his youngest agent a worried glance as Ziva gave Tim two breaths and began chest compressions.

Gibbs turned back to the well with the harness, peering down at Tony.

Tony was coughing hard and the horrible echos of it as the sound made its way up the well had Gibbs regretting letting Tony take point in the rescue work.

"The harness is coming down son," called Gibbs.

Tony shot him a terrified look. "Don't you go all nice on me now, boss. You only go nice when someone's dead and Tim isn't dead."

Gibbs flashed a look at Ziva counting off compressions as she worked on Tim. He lowered the harness and braced himself to help haul Tony out. Five minutes later and Gibbs caught Tony's hand and hauled him up onto the edge of the well.

Tony coughed horribly and struggled to gather a breath while rolling onto his feet and scrambling away from the well edge.

Gibbs caught him and steadied him as Tony stumbled in his haste to put some distance between himself and the well.

"I'll direct the medics," said the Ranger heading back into the trees.

"Steady there, DeNozzo," said Gibbs putting a hand on Tony's shivering shoulder.

"Sorry boss. Cold. Gotta call in the troops, boss. Bones everywhere down there." Tony coughed again. "Tucker's left a lot of people to die in that well," said Tony as he started plucking at the harness clips.

Gibbs glanced back at the well and nodded his head before his gaze went back to Tim's body lying so still and cold in the mud as Ziva worked over him.

"It's snowing," said Tony, struggling with the last harness clip. "When did it start snowing?"

Gibbs brushed Tony's fingers out of the way. "Half an hour ago," said Gibbs, unclipping the last of the harness clips. He hurried over to the first aid box beside Tim and started going through it.

"Ziva?" asked Tony softly.

Ziva looked up from her chest compressions. "I have started his heart twice now," she panted, "But his heart is very weak. I do know if he will make it."

Tony shook his head and stumbled closer. "McGee will make it. I told him I'd kill him if he didn't," he said.

"Elevate his feet," said Gibbs to Tony as he sorted through vials in the first aid kit. "Do you know what happened to Tim?"

Tony nodded. "Tucker caught him this morning not long after you told McGee to meet the Rangers," said Tony. "He's spent most of the day down that well in freezing chest high water with a gun shot wound in his shoulder and a head injury."

"Gun shot wound?" said Gibbs piercing Tony with his gaze.

"Yeah. Tucker had a silencer and the bullet's still in there boss," said Tony locking his eyes on Tim. "He's got a concussion as well where Tucker hit him and a broken right collar bone."

Gibbs pulled out a syringe and showed it to Ziva. "Dopamine? "

Ziva nodded still giving chest compressions and looking a little desperate. "It increases blood pressure. It's used in cases of major blood loss."

Gibbs stabbed the needle into Tim's upper arm and then yanked his coat off and draped it over Tim's lower body. "Come on McGee. Start breathing."

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

**_Sorry to leave it there guys - well ... I'm not really sorry. Hope you enjoyed._**


End file.
